Chapter 7: Aunt Fanny's Friends

 •  8 min. read  •  grade level: 11
 
TWO little heads were close together as Wilfrid and Hilda Gray studied their morning text. Four very bright eyes turned to aunt Fanny with a smile of welcome as she entered the children's playroom; then Hilda said, "Oh, aunt Fanny, we were wishing you would come, for as soon as we read our text Wilfrid said, Shall we ask aunt Fanny to tell us about her friends, I mean some of the poor deaf and dumb people she is so fond of going to see? And please will you, Auntie dear, we should both enjoy it very much? We can say our text, so are quite ready.”
Aunt Fanny smiled as she answered, "I think I may as well begin by telling you about a friend of mine who is deaf, dumb, and blind. Her name is Carrie, and I think her story will interest you very much.”
Hilda's bright young face wore quite a troubled look as she repeated slowly, "Deaf, dumb, and blind. How dreadful it must be! Poor Carrie, I am so sorry for her! As she cannot see, you cannot even tell her on your fingers that God loves us, can you?”
“Yes, darling, I am thankful to be able to tell you that dear Carrie is one of the Lord's hidden ones, and we have had some precious times together, talking in her silent language of that Savior of whom each of us through grace can say, 'Who loved me, and gave himself for me.’ (Gal. 2:2020I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20).)
“But I see you don't quite understand me, Hilda.”
“No, indeed, aunt Fanny, I can't really understand how Carrie and you can talk on your fingers when you tell us she is blind. But, perhaps, she can see a little.”
"No, Hilda, Carrie is quite blind; but have a little patience, dear, and I think I shall be able to make what seems now so hard to understand quite plain to you. Now Wilfrid and yourself are to shut your eyes while I place something in your hands, then without looking you are to tell me what you are holding.
“Now are you both ready?" "Yes, aunt Fanny, it was your pencil you put into my hand. I am quite sure, though of course I did not look," Wilfrid said, almost as soon as the object was fairly in his hand; and as Hilda was just as sure she was holding a thimble, Aunt Fanny went on by asking—"How did you know what I placed in your hands? You could not see, could you?”
“Oh no, aunt Fanny," said both children laughing. Then Wilfrid continued, "I knew it was a pencil, because I could feel it was round and long, one end was pointed and the other flat; and I expect Hilda made up her mind about the thimble much in the same way.”
“Yes, it was by the sense of touch that you were enabled to decide the form of the objects without looking. This sense is very quick in those who have lost or never had the precious gift of eyesight. When I talk to Carrie I take her hand in mine, and make the different letters of the alphabet on it. Long practice has enabled her to understand so quickly that she can converse with those who have learned the manual and sign language with great ease. But I have not told you much about my friend yet, so I must begin at once.
“Carrie was not born a deaf mute. When quite a little girl her eyes could see the loved faces of her father, mother, brothers and sisters, and she could hear as quickly as any child.
“But a severe attack of scarlet fever, when she was only a little girl, left her quite deaf, and soon after her sight began to fail. How often the poor child must have felt sad and lonely is known only to God. Perhaps what seemed hardest of all to Carrie was the decision, that she should be sent away from her own home to a school for deaf and dumb children at Brighton.
“But Carrie's school days were far from being unhappy ones. Her cheerful, affectionate disposition made her a favorite both with teachers and scholars.
“She soon learned to read and converse on her fingers, and even after she became quite blind was taught to read her Bible in Dr. Moon's type for the blind, by passing her fingers over its raised or embossed letters.
“Her knitting, too, was so well and evenly done as to be often admired by ladies who visited the school.
“But I am sure all this would not have been enough to make dear Carrie happy if the Lord had not attracted her heart to Himself. At first she did not see God's way of peace very clearly. But as soon as she took her place as a sinner before God, and trusted simply in the finished work of the Lord Jesus, joy and peace in believing filled her soul, and she wanted, oh so much, to do something to please the Savior.
“But you are wondering, I see, Hilda, how one who was herself deaf, dumb, and blind, could find anything to do in the way of service for the Lord.
“She took her desire to Him in prayer, and He opened the way for her to take a Sunday evening Bible class of deaf mutes. One of the class taking Carrie's hand in hers would read a few verses, then the eyes of all would be fixed on their blind teacher, while with rapid finger movements she told them of the love of God in the gift of His Son. Carrie is still living, and still an inmate of the Institution where she received her education. If you visit Brighton next summer, do not forget to ask your mamma to take you to see her. But I must not talk about Carrie any more now, as I am sure you would like to hear about at least one more of my silent friends.
“Such a bright little baby, with laughing eyes, and coaxing, winning ways. So quick to notice, too, holding out her tiny arms to welcome father, or smiling as if in answer to all the love lavished on her, that till she was almost a year old not one of the dear home circle ever even guessed that their darling little Kate was deaf. At first it seemed as if it could hardly be true, but as time went on and the baby, though she grew fast and seemed well and happy, did not even try to say words, a clever doctor was called in. After a careful examination his opinion was given, ‘Quite deaf, and with no hope of cure.'
“It must have been a sorrowful moment for her parents and sisters, but I think Kate's affliction only made her dearer to them. None of the family loved her with deeper tenderness than her elder sister Mary, who was at once the playfellow, friend, companion, and teacher of her childhood.
“Kate was not sent to school at a very early age, but it was really wonderful how much she was able to learn, and how well she understood much of what was going on around her.
“Her leaving home for school was, perhaps, her first real sorrow, but she soon became very fond of her teachers, and happy in the society of friends of her own age.
“The school to which she was sent was the well-known Institution for the education of Deaf and Dumb Children, Old Kent Road, London. Kate was one of the first of its pupils selected for instruction on the Oral or Lip-reading system. She made good progress, and took several prizes. After her death her teacher said of her, ‘I remember Kate so well, she was one of my best scholars, always so willing and anxious to please.'
“About the same time those who loved her were cheered by the hope that their dear Kate was really a child of God. She seemed so to enjoy reading her Bible, her favorite chapter being the tenth of the Gospel by John, in which the Lord Jesus speaks of Himself as the Good Shepherd.
“But I must tell you just a little about her illness and falling asleep. Kate had never been strong, and having taken a severe cold became so ill it was thought best to send her home for care and nursing.
“From that time till her death her sister Mary became her devoted nurse, giving up almost her whole time to her. It was thought sea air might do the invalid good, so the sisters went for a few weeks to Margate. But day by day, Kate grew weaker in body, though it was very blessed to watch how her faith in and love to Christ grew deeper and stronger.
“Only a day or two before the Lord took her to be with Himself, her sister, who very seldom left her sick room, asked her if she wanted to see any of her friends. Clearly and distinctly the dear girl said, ‘Yes, Jesus, Jesus,' and He gave her the desire of her heart, for after a little more pain and weakness, very peacefully and gently she fell asleep in Him.”